Trinity is the world’s largest religious broadcasting company. Its twinkling white headquarters – something of a cross between a Disneyland palace and an inspired recreation of the White House – is just off Interstate 405 in Costa Mesa.

TBN preaches “prosperity televangelism,” and preachers have urged the poor and debt-ridden to give, because God gives back most generously to those who can least afford it.

This inspired us to spend some more time with Trinity’s actual tax returns , which are posted at www.guidestar.com. Clearly, millions of people are listening, and digging deep into their pockets. In 2006, the most recent year reported, TBN:

took in $200.7 million,

spent $141.1 million,

and socked away the extra $59.6 million.

The stellar year pushes TBN’s net assets ever closer to the $1 billion mark – hovering now at $839 million. (Stay tuned; TBN had $327 million in mortgage-backed securities, so we’ll see how those investments fare down the road.)

PALTRY IN COMPARISON

“TBN stands out and is different from other nonprofits in that we’re a broadcasting entity,” said spokesman John Casoria (whose law office is one of TBN’s highest-paid independent contractors, getting $164,200 a year). “Though we consider ourselves a church, we’re a 501 c-3 and have been so for the last 35 years. Clearly we work in a different arena than most other charitable organizations.

“TBN is the 8th largest owner-operator of TV stations in the world,” he continued. “The salaries of these three individuals pales in comparison with people in the secular world doing similar work. This has not been not a job for them, but a life endeavor, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

“So when you compare us to other nonprofits out there feeding children and doing disaster relief, it’s basically apples and oranges. It’s still fruit, it’s still a nonprofit, but it’s a completely different charitable model.”

Casoria says that for the first 10 or 15 years of TBN’s existence, Mrs. Crouch didn’t take a salary, and Mr. Crouch’s salary was “well under $100,000.” A “truly independent third party compensation committee” was brought in a few years ago to review what the Crouches do and offer recommendations on what they should earn. “I can tell you the salaries they’re drawing are substantially lower than what was recommended,” he said.

GLOBAL VILLAGE

Trinity’s reach is truly awesome. In addition to broadcasting into most every American home, it arrives via satellite on TVs in Russia, Spain, Portugal, the Middle East, Central Africa, Australia, New Zealand, the South Pacific, Southeast Asia, Taiwan, India, Indonesia, Brazil, and, oh, many more places. It even broadcasts in Arabic and Farsi.

It produces films. Owns theme parks in Florida and Tennessee. Has a private jet and dozens of homes. The Crouches, once aligned with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, have had their own brushes with scandal (a wrongful-termination and sexual-harassment lawsuit against Paul Crouch was settled in 1998 for $425,000), but people the world over apparently love them.

Why? In a 2004 story, the Los Angeles Times quoted Crouch telling viewers that God was essentially open to quid pro quo. If they did their part to advance his kingdom – say, by donating money to TBN – they shouldn’t be shy about asking for rewards.

“If my heart really, honestly desires a nice Cadillac … would there be something terribly wrong with me saying, ‘Lord, it is the desire of my heart to have a nice car … and I’ll use it for your glory?’,” the Times quoted Crouch as saying. “I think I could do that and in time, as I walked in obedience with God, I believe I’d have it.”

Sforza birthed the Watchdog column for The Orange County Register in 2008, aiming to keep a critical (but good-humored) eye on governments and nonprofits, large and small. It won first place for public service reporting from the California Newspaper Publishers Association in 2010. Sforza contributed to the OCR's Pulitzer Prize-winning investigation of fertility fraud at UC Irvine, covered what was then the largest municipal bankruptcy in America‘s history, and is the author of "The Strangest Song," the first book to tell the story of a genetic condition called Williams syndrome and the extraordinary musicality of many of the people who have it. She earned her M.F.A. from UCLA's School of Theater, Film and Television, and enjoys making documentaries, including the OCR's first: "The Boy Monk," a story that was also told as a series in print. Watchdogs need help: Point us to documents that can help tell stories that need to be told, and we'll do the rest. Send tips to watchdog@ocregister.com.

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